


Leaving

by Eggspert



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Short, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 08:00:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14807432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eggspert/pseuds/Eggspert
Summary: A one-shot idea for an extremely unrealistic, fluffy, slightly absurd way that Wanda and Vision might've been allowed to venture into the unknown.Might become a series of one-shots?Infinity War hurt me so bad, y'all





	Leaving

Vision was leaving.

It had all been hammered out very quietly. Oh, there had been arguing. There was always arguing. That had become abundantly clear to Wanda with the conflict over the Sokovia Accords. It's just that instead of explosions and gunshots, it was angry whispering and muffled words through closed doors.

In the end, though, it had been decided that Vision could strike out on his own so long as he kept a low profile and checked in regularly.

Wanda had known all of this, yes, but in more of the abstract sense. It had not felt real to her then.Like a dream. Well, more of a nightmare if she was being honest with herself. Besides, it's not like it was something that should have _mattered_ to her. He was free to do what he liked, and she shouldn't have a say in what that entailed. She knew what it was like to be trapped somewhere, and she wouldn't be apart of the trapping of another.

It wouldn't be fair to him.

Even though it was he, in large part, who had helped her to cope with the sudden absence of her brother. That didn't count. That didn't mean anything. It sure as hell didn't mean he had to _stay._ Not for her _,_ at least _._

During one of her late night expeditions, she stumbles across him floating gently down a metal corridor. His brow is furrowed as he fidgets with a blinking metal device in his hands. Instead of his usual red skin and billowing yellow cape, he has adopted the form of a blonde man enveloped in a black hoodie three sizes too big. Even without the sight of the yellow stone embedded in his forehead, she would have known it was him.

“Vision,” Wanda murmurs in greeting, although she is surprised to see him there. Usually by this time of night, he’s either holed up in his quarters, or down in one of the laboratories working on some new project or other.

Vision’s head snaps up, swiveling toward the source of her voice. “Ah, Wanda,” his face softens instantly. “Wandering the facility at such an hour? Does something trouble you?”

“No,” she responds far too quickly. He raises a brow, but doesn't pry. He knows that she will speak to him when something weighs on her mind.

There _is_ something weighing on her mind. Some _one_ , really, and he's hovering right in front of her. She sighs. “Okay. Yes.”

His expression is one of genuine concern, and he indicates that she may accompany him. “I am in no rush. I will listen to whatever you deem worthy to share.”

“Vis… I don't… Were you leaving? Just now, I mean.”

“Not at this precise moment, no.” The corner of his mouth tugs upward into a comforting half-smile. “I was on my way to speak with Miss Romanov about the details of my departure. I hear there's been some sort of complication higher up the bureaucratic ladder.”

“I was worried,” she admits, “that you were going to go without saying goodbye.”

If there had been doubt in her mind, the look of vague horror he gives her is what alays it. “The thought had never even occurred to me, Wanda.”

She blinks up at him, pleased. “I'm glad.”

“Was there anything else?”

“No. At least, nothing you've not heard a thousand times before.”

He reaches for her shoulder, offering the softest and most hesitant of touches. “Your brother?”

The well of emotion still buried inside her threatens to rise to the brim and overflow, but she contains it. “Yeah.”

All he offers is a nod and an understanding smile, but that is all that she needs right now. Her brother has been gone for years now, and the aches in her are no longer as strong as they once were. She thinks she's healed, at least a little bit.

If she has, it is thanks to Vision.

* * *

 

“Miss Romanov, you wanted to speak with me?” Vision says, phasing through the wall instead of walking through the door with Wanda. Natasha doesn't even blink at him, so used to the strange and unexpected.

“Vision. And... hello.” The Widow circles around a glossy white table, bringing up a holographic screen depicting the faces of anxious people in suits and ties. Many of them seem to be yelling, although there is no sound accompanying the movement of their mouths. Their eyes are covered by black bars, just like the kind on classified documents that usually come with the word REDACTED.

“Do I need to leave?” Wanda asks, uncertain. She might not have been allowed to be here.

“No,” Natasha shakes her head. Her smile is a wry one. “It's probably a good thing you came. You might be able to help with our little issue.”

Vision drifts forward, brow furrowing. “Issue?”

“Yes,” she scowls. Again, her eyes flick over to the people on the screens. She subtly gestures that they stay out of range of the camera hovering by the screens, and that Wanda stay silent. “ _They_ have a problem with the idea of you wandering around the world unchecked and unmonitored.”

“I thought that you were supplying me with a tracking device.”

Natasha nods, brings a finger to her lips, and unmutes the computer. “We _were_ supplying him with a tracking device.”

“That's not good enough,” one of the faces on the screen snaps. “Things like that can be reprogrammed, tricked. They're not nearly as reliable as an agent on the ground. We can set up our own safehouse near his, deploy someone reliable. This can be resolved within the hour.”

“Agents can be bribed or otherwise corrupted,” one of the other faces on the screen argues. “Besides, whichever country the agent is from would have unfair leverage over the rest of us. The Vision is a major asset and an unknown quantity. Imagine if it was turned against us, against humanity as a whole! We’re not at the top of the food chain in this universe. The incidents in New York and Sokovia have made that abundantly clear.”

“We could set up a rotation, maybe, from a pool of trustworthy agents. International organizations, of course..”

The Black Widow’s fingers are flying across a digital touchpad. Stark's tech, no doubt. A file for Max Adnaw pops up. It's clearly a picture of Wanda, digitally altered to appear more masculine. “Here,” she says to the holograms. “Max Adnaw. He works for an international organization, I won't name names, but I can tell you he's good. You'd be hard pressed to find anyone that knows his name. A pretty valuable trait for an undercover agent, if I do say so myself.”

“What are his specialties?”

“Ah.” A trace of a smirk plays over her lips. “Well, Adnaw is excellent at incapacitation, infiltration, and hiding in plain sight. I can get in contact with him, _and_ give Vision a tracking device. That should satisfy everyone's needs, and that's the end of that.”

One of them turns red in the face. “Now, you just wait a min—” Natasha disconnects from the channel before the man can finish his sentence.

“So,” she grins a little too widely, “what do you think?”

“I'm a little confused,” Wanda admits. “What exactly did you just do?”

“Saddle up, Wanda Maximoff. Or, should I say, Max Adnaw. You'll be the agent on Vision Monitoring duty.”

The subject in question raises a finger. “I'm not certain that this is the wisest course of action, Miss Romanov.”

“You wanted freedom, right, Vision? This is the closest I can give you. Instead of a random assassin that foreign governments might hire to stalk you, I've got Wanda there. Actually, foreign governments might still hire assassins to stalk you, but you're both big kids. I think you'll be able to take care of yourselves. And if you can't? Well, that's what we're here for.”

“I'll be… living with Vis?” Wanda asks, and it feels like the wind has been knocked out of her.

“At least very close to him, yes.”

“But,” Vision objects, “the director does not know—”

Natasha interrupts him before he can finish. “I’ve been talking to Fury about possibilities for the past few weeks. You've wanted to leave, and I know that you have too, Wanda. This is a solution we settled on. Fury knows, and he's agreed. Just expect a SHIELD visit every now and again.”

Vision speaks again, looking at Wanda with concern. “Are you alright with this? You have friends here. I do not wish to force you apart from them.”

Wanda swallows, throat thick. This has all happened so quickly, but the _idea_ of it. Running away from it all. Living with Vision and only needing to ping in every once in a while. It sounds like heaven. “ _You_ are my dearest friend, Vis. My world would be greyer without you in it, and I don't like the idea of you out in the unknown, alone. I will go with you.”

His hands clench into fists at his sides, not out of anger, but in that way that people do when they are trying to physically contain the emotion boiling up inside of them. His eyes glisten more than usual, and she thinks his breath even hitches once or twice. “Thank you, Wanda. I would be honored to have your company.”

“And I yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> eggspert.tumblr.com is a party


End file.
